


if there's a will

by aqua_marine



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e34-35 Juno Steel and the Soul of the People, Rita is a Good Friend (Penumbra Podcast), Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_marine/pseuds/aqua_marine
Summary: Rita has two objectives today: one, get everyone to have anice family dinner, and two: get Mista Steel tolighten up.





	if there's a will

**Author's Note:**

> if there's will, there's a way.
> 
> (in before kevin and sophie destroy me with season 3) one might recall, if one has listened to the season 2 q&a, that somebody asked a question about how well each of them could cook. well, that person was me, because I was writing this fic at the time. fun facts!
> 
> anyways, thanks for looking! I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it. lmk if you did :)

Rita thinks it’s been too long since Juno has smiled. He spends an awful lot of time just lookin’ out the window, staring at the stars like he hasn’t seen ‘em enough. He’s there now, in his room, just starin’. Looks an _awful_ lot like moping.

“Hey, boss,” she says from the door, and begins to approach. Juno startles and goes for his blaster, though he probably couldn’t hit her if he tried. (He’s workin’ on it, but it’s… slow going.) His face is tugging down and his eyepatch is gone for once. His eye is open, and there’s just an empty socket. Rita’s used to it. “You’ve spent a lotta time in here,” she says. “Mista Jet wants you to come out for dinner.”

Juno rolls his eye - the empty socket does some sort of strange spasm. “Oh, _now_ he does,” he says with irritation, but it doesn’t sound like the real thing to Rita. She’s been with him a long time; it ain’t hard to figure these things out.

“Come on, boss, you ain’t hung up on the name thing _still_ ,” she says, ‘cause it’s been like four days since they took off. Juno crosses his arms.

“Maybe I am,” he says. Rita sighs and grabs his arm. He can resist all he wants, but Rita knows when he means it, and this… this is not resistance. 

“Where are Vespa and Buddy?” he asks, letting himself get dragged up and away from the window. He glances back at the stars and hunches in on himself like he’s been shot in the stomach. Rita tugs on his arm again, and he looks away.

“Pilotin’ and other stuff,” she says The door slides open and they step through into what’s aptly called the livin’ room as one four-legged creature. “Mista Sikuliaq is waitin’. And, in case you’re wonderin-” she holds up a finger and Juno shuts his mouth- “Mista Glass- Silver, _whatevah_ \- ain’t here right now.”

A worried look flits over Juno’s face. Rita rolls her eyes heavily and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He’s sleepin’, boss, he ain’t dead. Now come on.”

Juno pulls his arm away from Rita and pauses, looking at her from the corner of his eye. Rita rocks on her heels defiantly and waits; eventually Juno loops his arm around her shoulders with a very slight smile. Rita’s heart warms. It took twenty years, and it’ll take twenty more, but they’re gettin’ somewhere.

Jet looks up from the armchair he’s in, holding a cup of tea, and gestures for Rita- and Juno by extension- to sit on the couch across from him. There’s a table in the middle, nice and square but with rounded edges so none of them take out their knees by accident. That happened a lot when Rita was little - it was the _worst_ , really.

Juno lets go and sits down on one end of the couch. Rita does him a small favor and sits a foot or so away, kicking her feet up on the table until Jet gives her a look. It isn’t disapproving or anythin’, but it holds just enough weight that she removes them and sits cross-legged instead. “Whatcha doin’, Mista Jet?” she says.

Jet considers the question heavily. In her peripheral vision, Juno rolls his eyes. “I have found knitting to be very suitable during space travel,” Jet eventually says. Rita sits up straight, her attention caught.

“Knittin’? Oh man, Mista Jet, I _love_ knittin’. You made a pair of socks yet? Ooh! Or a sweater? Franny made me a sweater one time. It was pretty bad, but I loved it. _I_ made me a sweater one time, well, more than once, but most of ‘em are too worn to still use ‘em. I even made Mista Steel one for his birthday! He only wore it that day, but it’s betta than no days, right?”

Jet takes this in without a blink. Rita’s a little concerned; surely he shoulda blinked by now, but if he wants to, he can. It ain’t her business. She turns to Juno, who’s looking a little overwhelmed. “What happened to that sweater I made you?” she asks. Juno’s eye snaps back to her from where it was hovered at the window.

“Oh, I don’t know,” says Juno, not at all sounding suitably sorry. In fact… Rita squints at him for a moment.

“Now now Mista Steel,” she says. Juno scoffs. “I dunno what I did, but lyin’ just ain’t right. Unless you’re watchin’ movies you ain’t supposed to be watchin’ or gettin’ into those places they don’t want you in or- _aany_ ways, what happened to that sweater? Didja drop it in the sink? Drop it out the window? Drop it down a grate? Drop i-”

“Nothing happened to it, Rita,” says Juno with exasperation, and Rita grins.

“A _ha_! So you _do_ know where it is.”

“Wh- no- I-” Juno glares at her. A little less effective with only one eye, but she gets the message. She _won_.

Jet laughs to himself. “Perhaps I should make a pair of socks for you, Rita,” he says, inadvertently saving Juno from Rita’s gloating. She tries to be mad about it, and fails. 

“Mista Jet! I would _love that_.”

Jet nods and makes a note in his- journal? Rita coulda sworn he wasn’t holdin’ it a minute ago, but he’s got a way with those kinds of things. 

Juno clears his throat and both of his companions glance up at him. “Weren’t you saying something about dinner, Rita?” he says. 

“Oo _ooh_ , that’s right!” Rita replies, snapping her fingers. “Since we've got food and all, we're going to have a nice family dinner.”

Juno sits up from where he’s slouched like he’s been electrocuted, and glares at Rita. “You didn’t mention that,” he says. Rita raises an eyebrow.

“ _Yeah_ , I _did_ , Mista Steel. I said, ‘Mista Jet wants you to come for dinner.’ Don’t you remember? You havin’ memory problems, boss?”

Juno frowns. “No, Rita, I just didn’t realize that when you said _dinner_ you meant _everybody_. Also, ‘nice family dinner’? Really?”

“Well, maybe I was paraphrasin’ a bit, but it’s true! Come on, Mista Steel, just this once. I won’t bother you again after this.”

Juno gives her an incredulous look, and she falters. “Weeell, okay, maybe I will, but my point still stands.” She clasps her hands together. “We ain’t gonna be here forever, Mista Steel. We gotta use the time we have!”

He considers. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “Now what? I thought you said Buddy and Vespa were piloting.”

“They are slowing down as we speak,” Jet says. “After dinner I will take their place and they will get some rest. If you would like, Juno, you may come and try your hand at it.”

Juno grimaces. “Maybe not the best idea,” he says. “Spaceship lessons should probably wait until I won’t put everyone in danger by pressing the wrong button.”

“On the contrary,” Jet replies, “there is no better time.”

Nobody speaks for a moment; Rita and Juno glance at each other. “...I can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Juno says. They look back to Jet, but his face is still as mildly pleasant as ever. “Whatever. So who’s making dinner?”

“Already done, Mista Steel! Miss Buddy- though she can’t eat so I don’t really know why she was helpin’- and Mista Jet spent a few hours in the kitchen earlier. Mista Glass- uh, Silver- and I tried to help, but he’s really not a good cook and, well boss, you remember the cheese.”

Juno’s somewhat forlorn expression changes into a grimace. “Okay, I get your point. But… wait. We have a _kitchen_?”

Rita’s eyebrows attempt to rise above her hairline. “Mista Steel,” she says. “ _Boss_. We’ve been here for _four_ days and you didn’t know we had a _kitchen_? Where didja think we got food?”

“Uh,” says Juno. “I mean… maybe it was precooked? Look, it’s not a _completely_ unfounded assumption! Okay, you two keep staring at me like that, I’m going to find the kitchen.” His arms crossed, he stands up and walks in a direction that Rita knows for a fact is the opposite of the kitchen. She _could_ say something, but the boss has done this to himself.

Jet seems to be thinking something along the same lines. “He does not know that we had a kitchen,” Jet repeats, as if the words don’t make sense. Rita shrugs. 

“Ain’t that surprising. He’s spent mosta his time in his room, just lookin’ out the window. Almost like he’s avoidin’ something. Or some _one_.” Rita wiggles her eyebrows in Jet’s direction, but he doesn’t seem inclined to gossip. “No fun, Mista Jet,” she grumbles, but as if summoned, a figure stirs in the doorway that Juno left through.

“Hello?” says Mista Glass-Silver. “I’m sorry, did I hear you all discussing dinner?”

Rita would bet her last bag of chips that he was waiting just outside until Juno left. She gives him a bright grin. “Mista Glass, of course! Come. Have a seat. Also, I’m real sorry about accidentally burnin’ your fingers.” She glances at his hands; the left is wrapped in white bandages. 

Mista Glass only shakes his head, laughing elegantly. “Oh, it’s not a problem,” he says. “ _I_ am sorry that I singed your hair.”

“It’ll grow back. Probably.” She runs a hand through the curls and shrugs. “Anyways, yeah, Mista Jet says we’ll be slowin’ down soon. What did you guys make? I kinda forgot.”

Rita turns back to Jet as Mista Glass seats himself next to her primly, tapping his manicured nails on his thighs. “We had to restart after the fire,” says Jet, “but Buddy is surprisingly good at cooking for a woman who does not eat. We made spaghetti with tomato sauce. It is not the most high-class, but I trust it will be sufficient.”

Rita and Mista Glass nod - one significantly more enthusiastic than the other, though Mista Glass still has his manners. “Of course,” he says. “Shall I go find Buddy and Vespa, let them know?”

Rita shakes her head quickly; “No, no, Mista Glass, I can do it. You stay here with Jet.” She attempts to make eye contact with the master thief in the armchair, to communicate something along the lines of ‘we need t' get Mista Steel in here _stat_ ’, but she doesn’t think it’s successful. Oh well. She’ll get him and Mista Glass to talk _eventually_.

Both Jet and Mista Glass watch her as she heads towards the cockpit - it’s hard not to feel a little scrutinized when you’ve got not one, but _two_ master thieves in one place. She feels a little relieved once she’s no longer in the living room, and knocks on the cockpit door eagerly.

“Miss Buddy? Miss Vespa? You in there?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then some muffled low voices. “Yes, Rita darling,” Buddy’s disembodied voice replies, “come in.”

Rita slides the door open and smiles wide - Buddy's perched on the arm of the pilot’s chair, one of her hands on Vespa’s shoulder. Vespa herself is squinting at the controls, hands moving shakily around the control board, though they’re steadied by Buddy’s. It’s adorable; Rita only squeaks a little.

“Is this a bad time?” she asks. “I can give you guys a couple a’ minutes, I’m sure th' rest of us can wait-”

“No no,” Buddy interrupts good-naturedly. “We’ve almost come to a stop. I’m assuming you were going to tell us that dinner will be soon?”

“Mhm! Mista Jet and Mista Glass are in the living room. Mista Steel… well, to be honest, he’s probably gotten himself lost. The boss is like that. He didn’t know we had a _kitchen_ , Miss Buddy.”

Buddy’s scarred face wrinkles into a smile. “That does sound like him,” she says. “Well, we just need a few more seconds, right Vespa?”

Vespa startles at being addressed, blinking with wide eyes up at Buddy. “Right,” she says in her characteristically rusty voice. “Yeah. Just…” she pulls down on a big lever; Rita restrains herself from asking if she can help. “There we go. Should be good.”

“Great!” says Rita; Vespa’s eyes go from Buddy to her, as if she hadn’t realized they had company, which is probably the truth. She’s still recovering, just like… well, like most of the people on this spaceship. Scratch that, _all_ of them. But at least they’re working towards getting better.

“Give us a moment, Rita,” Buddy says. Her eyebrows are slightly furrowed. “I promise we’ll be up in a minute or two.”

“No problem, Miss Buddy! Miss Vespa.” She nods in their direction and spins on a heel back the way she came. From what little she’s seen, Vespa doesn’t exactly do well with crowds, but Rita believes in her. They’ll have a nice family dinner, just like she promised. 

As she makes her way back towards the living room, Jet passes her by. “I will be back,” he informs her as he heads towards the kitchen, “I just have to retrieve the food. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Just some orange juice, Mista Jet,” she replies as she continues on her way. “Thanks.” She enters the living room cheerfully and sits down next to Mista Glass, who’s staring off into space (hah! _space_ ) and fiddling with a bobby pin. It sparkles in the light - Rita pauses. That kind of looks like _her_ bobby pin, but she knows she keeps them all safely locked in her drawer-

The familiar silhouette of Juno appears in the same doorway he left through. He freezes at the sight of the people on the couch and begins to backtrack, but Rita catches his eye and gives him her most intimidating glare. Reluctantly, he skirts the chairs and table to sit on Rita’s other side, leaving her in between them. She settles; at least it’s an improvement.

The couch squeaks slightly when Juno sits down, folding in on himself, and Mista Glass is startled out of his thoughts. His eyes widen behind his glasses and he opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come out. Rita looks at Juno from the corner of her eye and elbows him; he scowls. She snorts and turns to her right instead.

“Soo, whatcha been doing, Mista Glass?” she asks, ignoring the betrayal radiating from Juno. Mista Glass looks to her in surprise. 

“Oh, well,” he says. Rita can’t help finding it funny that he’s lost his words; Mista Glass is a man who seems like he’s got his stuff together most days. “I suppose I’ve just been preparing for our job. Information gathering, and all that. Important things.”

_Right_ , Rita thinks. Definitely not moping. 

But she’s got them where she wants them; it’s time for drastic measures. She sits forward and pulls out her comms, turning the screen on but hiding it from view. “Oh! Looks like... Mista Jet needs some help in the kitchen. I better get going!” She darts off the couch and through the hall to the kitchen, pausing to snicker at her daring escape. _Mission accomplished_. 

As soon as she steps foot through the doorway, Jet looks up from where he’s ladling tomato sauce into five bowls. “Rita?” he asks mildly. “Did you require something?”

“Nah, Mista Jet. Just wonderin’ if you needed any help.” 

Jet’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks to the bowls lined up in front of him. “No, I do not believe so,” he says, “but if you are so inclined, you could take two of these bowls back out to the living room.”

“Sure thing! Just… m _aay_ be I’ll wait a couple minutes. ‘Til you’re done.” She takes one bowl in each hand and props herself on the counter while Jet shrugs and resumes spooning out the spaghetti and tomato sauce. She watches him for a moment before turning her attention to the doorway; she can’t hear anything coming from the living room, which either means it’s going terribly wrong or absolutely great. For a moment she thinks she might have heard a low murmur, but it’s probably wishful thinking.

Juno is going to be real mad, Rita notes sadly. It just ain’t fair; all she wants is for him to be a little happier, to settle whatever deal he has with Mista Glass and stop _moping_ all the time. Then they can have their nice family dinner.

“I am done,” Jet informs Rita as he turns around. He has one plate in each hand, and the third is balanced expertly on his arm. She makes a note to get him to show her how to do that at some point; it’s real cool. Could be useful some time.

“Great!” she replies, pushing herself off the counter. She and Jet make their way into the hall and almost run straight into Buddy and Vespa, coming from the cockpit. Vespa looks more centered, and Buddy has a look in her eyes that Rita would classify as ‘lovestruck’. Jet has to dodge them both, and the bowls tip dangerously, but he does some crazy footwork and manages to keep them upright. Rita’s eyes go wide; she’s _got_ to learn how to do _that_.

“Very nice,” Buddy notes to Jet as soon as he’s regained his balance. She turns to Rita before they reach the living room; “Did you actually manage to get Juno and Silver to stay in the same room?”

Rita shrugs. “I tried, Miss Buddy, but I guess we’ll see when we get there.”

Buddy gives her a nod as Rita passes by to set her bowls down on the coffee table. Her eyes dart to the couch on her right; Juno and Mista Glass are _talking_. Rita’s almost shocked into tripping over nothing. They’re both whispering to each other with serious expressions; Juno somehow looks sadder than usual. As soon as they notice the current company they turn away from each other, but Rita catches Juno’s eye and gives him an encouraging smile. His face goes through a series of expressions in response, eventually settling on a reluctant half-grimace.

After setting down the bowls, she plops down next to Juno. Jet, Buddy, and Vespa filter in not a moment later. “Everythin' good, boss?” she whispers to Juno, leaning into his side. He glances down at her, lips pursed, and she pushes her glasses up to look back at him.

“It… it will be.” He glances around at the returning members of their crew with something like relief, at Mista Glass uncertainly, and then back to Rita. And then he smiles.


End file.
